


Underneath It All

by Measured



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Public Sex, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-09
Updated: 2011-08-09
Packaged: 2017-10-22 10:11:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/236964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measured/pseuds/Measured
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were far enough away that the sounds of the party had died down to a dull roar. Matthew looked back and forth, and then, finding no one, pinned him to the wall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Underneath It All

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alliterations](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alliterations/gifts).



> For Alliterations/Melly.

He'd been playing with fire, of course. Flirting with Antonio who didn't even notice he was being flirted with (Perhaps, Francis thought, he was just too accustomed to being around him). When he felt a tap on his shoulder, Francis thought he'd be looking down a gun, perhaps fueled by _Southern Italian rage._ However what he saw instead was Matthieu. He remembered when Matthieu had been little, and begged to be picked up. He'd been an affectionate child, to the point of clinginess. Always wanting to be in his papa's lap and snuggled. Of course, the treaty of Paris had changed everything between them, and now he was certainly too small to be carrying around. He'd probably put out his back if he tried.

He was taller than Francis now, a young and beautiful country. Francis always did feel a bit of pride when looking at him–though a large amount of it was that somehow in the battles, silky hair had won over and he'd missed the Kirkland curse of horrific eyebrows. He wore casual apparel, as usual. Loose jeans, a button-up blue shirt, though his expression was not the usual polite, unassuming kind. He almost seemed angry about something.

"I'm going to be stealing him now," Matthieu said. He took Francis's hand and lead him out, away from his friends. There was a tightness to his smile, which Francis knew meant some form of his meanness was going to come out. Matthieu could be extraordinarily mean for such a nice little country. Francis figured both he and Arthur took the blame for instilling this, when Matthieu would be pushed too far and be sullen and petulant and even dig up things from years and years ago. He never forgot a thing.

Francis prepared himself for a tongue-lashing, though he couldn't remember any truly great slights recently. He hadn't fought with Arthur in Matthieu's house, hadn't seduced or attempted to seduce his brother lately, in fact he'd been quite good. He looked to Matthieu, questioningly, and just as he was about to ask.

" _Cher_ , what is this–"

They were far enough away that the sounds of the party had died down to a dull roar. Matthew looked back and forth, and then, finding no one, pinned him to the wall.

"I am claiming you," he said evenly.

Francis was not opposed to this idea. It was a surprise to have his little former colony, always thought as so _sweet_ to be pushing him to the wall, to be kissing him in ways he'd never he'd ever _dreamed of,_ let alone experienced. Francis was pretty sure he'd had this sexual fantasy before, though he'd had so many, it was hard to tell for sure. Either way, he hungrily returned the kiss and was quite pleased when Matthieu too the initiative and began to stroke his cock through his pants.

Francis strained to lean closer, his cock throbbing. Matthieu sunk his teeth down on Francis' neck and took on a firm hold. Oh, it was glorious. Matthieu's grip on him was so solid, so _dominating_ –if his mouth hadn't been otherwise occupied when Matthieu came to claim it again, he would've been begging him to just fuck him already.

He ground his hips to Matthieu's, and felt him falter for a moment. He made use of that moment of surprise to free his hands and take care of Mattieu's clothes problem. Namely, that he was still wearing any. He undid the buttons on Matthieu's shirt, liking more and more what he was revealing. Matthieu had a swimmer's body, not quite as bulky as his brother's, but with a certain litheness with appealed to Francis. He knew very well that there was plenty of strength hidden in slouches and polite words, and frankly that only made him more aroused to see that he'd been the one to unravel all the decorum in Matthieu.

"Oh, _Mon Dieu_ , Matthieu—" Francis breathed. "Take, take me already."

He unzipped Matthieu's pants, kissed his neck in an almost submissive gesture. He felt a shudder run though Matthieu's body, and his grip on him tighten, much to his satisfaction.

He wondered if Matthieu would blush, if determination to fuck him in a public hallway would cease, but Matthieu lifted him up and dispelled that notion. He pressed his back to the wall and Francis gripped Matthieu's _very nice_ shoulders for leverage.

"Um, _merde_ ," Matthieu said. "Preparation–"

"Condoms in my pocket," Francis gasped. "They're lubricated."

"Is that enough?" Matthieu asked.

"More than enough," Francis said.

Matthieu had to put him down–much to his displeasure—and he began to rifle through his pockets.

"No, no, let me–" Francis said.

He pulled out a lubricated condom and put the packet between his teeth, careful to not rip the condom itself. He looked up at Matthieu, playful and flirty as he opened up the package. He licked his lips and began to open up his white boxers with red maple leaves on them. He greedily took Matthieu's cock into his mouth, sucking noisily without a care how much noise he made.

Matthieu leaned against the wall to try and steady himself. He twisted his fingers up in Francis's hair, and just as Francis had been hoping he would, pushed into him in an almost reflexive, instinctual thrust.

It wasn't quite as rough as it _could've_ been, but for Matthieu it was downright savage. Francis didn't go for teasing licks, but instead did everything he could to keep Matthieu ravishing his mouth. He gripped each cheek of Matthieus' taut ass and pushed Matthieu's cock the rest of the way into his mouth. He moaned like it was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted, ever had in him and felt Matthieu's knees start to shake. He wondered if they'd buckle, but no. He just leaned harder into the wall, pushing Francis's knuckles so hard against it he wondered if he'd have scrapes by the time it was through. Francis wasn't into hair pull–it was hard in his hair and tend to wreck his look–but the hint of pain at his scalp only added to the beautiful roughness of it all.

With some reluctance, he pulled back and let Matthieu's cock slip from his lips. He rolled the condom down over him, enjoying the feel of his thick girth in his hands.

"Francis—"

"Come inside me," he begged.

He undid his pants and let them slip to the floor. Italian wool be damned, he was getting laid. It could be dry-cleaned, anyways. Matthieu picked him up again, pressing him to the wall and soon enough, pressing into _him_. Ah, it was so wonderful being so thoroughly stretched like that. He wrapped his legs around Matthieu's hips, and tried to press him in as deep and hard as possible.

"Don't hold back," Francis said, his voice growing desperate now. "Don't you _dare_ hold back, _chéri_."

He broke off into a throaty moan, not giving a damn if anyone heard him. Matthieu was thrusting into him, the wall was cool against his back, and a contrast to the warmth of his body. In fact, let them come. They could enjoy the show.

He certainly would.

Matthieu's breath was coming faster now, his too as well. Neither could last long like this, for no one lasted long after he'd used his tongue on them. _No one._. But oh, how he wanted it to last. Even if he couldn't walk right tomorrow, the feel of Matthieu filling him up, thrusting in hard and pushing him roughly to the wall. His hips jutted, meeting the thrusts. It was uncomfortable, not an ideal place to be fucking, but oh, that only made it better.

He heard a murmur–was it an endearment, a confession of love, or just his name said in a way that it became both?– and then there was a warm spurt inside him, which was nice, but not something he had expected.

Matthieu leaned against the wall, resting forehead to forehead with him.

"Francis...."

" _Chéri_...I think the condom ripped," Francis said.

"What?" Matthieu looked confused. They withdrew from each other, and Matthieu bent to pick up his clothes, seemingly to only realize his had only been unbuttoned. The aftersex glow left him clusmy still. It was quite adorable.

Then the realization came over him, and he looked panicked. "O-Oh. _Merde._ Are you all right?"

Francis chuckled. "I'm not getting pregnant, if that's what you're asking. Diseases...Ah, they won't kill me, though they itch something horrible."

Francis shrugged. "I doubt I'd get anything from you, at any rate, and my last test came back negative, so you shouldn't get anything from me."

"Oh...." Matthieu cleared his throat. "Good. I'm sorry, though. For that."

"Don't worry about it," Francis said. He pulled on his pants, which were only slightly worse for the wear. Matthieu leaned against the wall and pulled his pants back up.

"This seems so unlike you....not that I particularly mind," Francis said.

"Um, well. I had this thought that to get your attention I'd have to drag you away and screw you against a wall in public. And then I realized you'd probably like that, so...I guess I got too angry to think straight." Matthieu rubbed at the back of his neck. "I really don't like seeing you with other people. Because well, I..." He trailed off.

"I must say this is the most... _interesting_ confession I've ever gotten," Francis mused. Matthieu blushed.

"Would this be an apt time to blame my French heritage?" Matthieu said.

"But of course," Francis said. "I would be most happy to take the blame for this unexpected side of you."

He leaned in for a kiss. Matthieu hungrily kissed him back. He hadn't expected Matthieu to be a biter, but apparently he was.

Apparently Matthieu was a lot of things he hadn't known about.

Really, there was only one thing to do, and that was to make up for lost time.

"Say, chéri. Are you free this weekend? My bedroom has the most lovely view–you can see the Eiffel tower just as it lights up at night. You really should come see it some time."

"...did you just use a bad pickup line on me?" Matthieu asked, incredulous.

Francis smiled. "Did it work?"

"...yes," Matthieu admitted.

Francis laughed.

"Then that's all that matters, isn't it?" Francis said.

"You have my permission to use as many bad come ons as you want as long as I'm allowed to groan at them sometimes."

"They're bad if they don't work, _non_?" Francis said.

And then he kissed Matthieu again, just because he could.


End file.
